


Weird Life

by Sonamae



Category: Osmosis Jones (2001)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blood and Gore, Casual Sex, I mean it's Thrax, M/M, Mentions of Death, Of course there is going to be death, Prostitution, Talked of violence, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, Weird Affection, fuck gender norms, sex without love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-06
Updated: 2017-04-04
Packaged: 2018-03-06 09:49:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3130139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sonamae/pseuds/Sonamae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ozzy has a weird life now that he's stuck with Thrax, and he's not really sure what to do with it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I do very strange things when I'm deprived of my Amica. Very strange things indeed. But I've been wanting to write an Ozzy/Thrax fic for ages, just never got off my ass to do it. But now I have.
> 
> Imagine that at the end of the movie, Ozzy doesn't save Frank. Imagine that Thrax thinks it would be fun to drag Ozzy with him because he's bored, but then he gets attached and Ozzy gets numb to being angry. There you go, you can dive in now. Enjoy the porn.

 Thrax liked to body hop, and at first Ozzy fought him every time Thrax would drag him somewhere new. They made it a sort of game in every body, kill Thrax or be knocked unconscious. The virus would touch down, give Osmosis a time limit, and then leave him to his own devices. Ozzy always fought him with everything in the beginning, hoping, _praying_ that this body would be it. He prayed that he would kill the virus and finally be able to settle down somewhere. The police forces in the body never listened to him though; they always laughed or locked him up assuming he was a foreign contaminant. Like that was honestly hard to believe.

Ozzy remembered spending a full two weeks in a prison hold before Thrax came through the wall looking horribly disappointed once. The virus had scooped him up and hopped bodies the next minute, acting as if nothing had happened.

Thrax was so picky about whom he infected, but sometimes his infection wasn’t about killing. Sometimes he just fucked with the body and left, other times he’d hunkier down keeping a dizzying fever, and then spend a week doing nothing.

“You want some doughnuts?” He would ask with a chuckle, or “I’m ordering Chinese food baby, you want anything?” Thrax was strange; he’d stopped boasting about his kills after the third or fourth body, going silently for the next dozen. It freaked Ozzy out for a while, but then he’d just fallen into the silence with him.

“I’m tired.” Thrax admitted once as he opened the bathroom door and sat on the tile. Ozzy was sitting in the tub doing a crossword and chewing on the end of his pen when he‘d come in, well passed the point of being body shy.

“Then go to bed?” Ozzy shrugged before pulling the pen away from his mouth. “Hey, ten letter word for fate?” Thrax had raised an eyebrow at him and scooted over to the tub. He blew bubbles away from Ozzy’s knees and looked at the crossword.

“Inevitable.” He tapped out each letter and then leaned against the frame. “You’re not going to fight me anymore, are you.” It was statement more than question, and Ozzy chuckled.

“My gun is locked up wherever you put it, so are my cuffs. I just got in the tub, and you just helped me figure out this line I’ve been trying to do for about twenty pulses. I think I’ll fight you later.” Ozzy didn’t want to admit that he was tired too. So very tired.

Thrax just hummed and stayed in place by the tub, watching Ozzy scribble in words on the crossword until the water went cold. Ozzy shifted in the tub and shivered for a while, then reached out to put his hand over Thrax’s.

“Would you?” he tapped the virus’ finger and Thrax let out a deep laugh before he heated the water with a simple tap to the surface. “Oh yeah, that’s nice. I swear I could just kiss you.” Ozzy relaxed again and looked back at the crossword. He only had three words left.

“You keep making noises like that and I will.” Thrax told him with a chuckle. “I’m hungry, you hungry baby?” Ozzy just rolled his eyes and shrugged. “I’m thinking about some _soul_ food. Something real fancy. Come on, let’s go out.” Thrax stood and stretched, his joints popping as he did so.

“You _just_ warmed up the bath water.” Ozzy said in protest. “Besides, when do _you_ want to go out, you hate going out. The only time you do is when it’s for doughnuts or _beer_.” He made a face of disgust and sank further into the water, obviously content to stay put. Thrax huffed at him and snatched up the crossword. “Hey! Give that back.”

Thrax held the book above his head as Ozzy scrambled to try to recover it. The film from the bath ran down him in swirls and he trembled in the cold air. He sank back down and closed his eyes, arms around his legs.

“Why is it always so cold here?” He muttered, the back of his hand rubbing at his cheek. Thrax seemed to think it over before setting the crossword on the sink.

“Come out with me, we’ll get something warm to eat and then we’ll hop bodies. I won’t even kill this one.” Thrax said, voice holding the edge of a promise. Ozzy snorted, but unplugged the bath anyway.

“I doubt that, let me rinse off. Go… do something for ten pulses; I’ll be out when I’m out.” Thrax just smirked, knowing he had won.

“It’s still cute to me that you started using pulses as a time measurement.” Thrax muttered as he left the bathroom. Osmosis just narrowed his eyes at the virus and yanked the curtain closed.

Later on, Ozzy found out that a virus called Sepsis had infected the body they were in and had been dropping the temperature. Thrax was _furious_. He’d ‘ _called_ _dibs_ ’ and was ready to start all kinds of fights, but Ozzy had reminded him of his promise. Thrax hesitated, hand raised to cut out the window and hunt Sepsis down, but he seemed to droop.

“Yeah… yeah baby, you’re right.” He’d huffed and walked over to Osmosis, wrapping his arms around him in a hug. Ozzy stiffened and didn’t hug back, but it didn’t seem to deter Thrax. He just sighed and gave Ozzy a light squeeze, then let him go. “Time to head out, put your coat on.” Osmosis paused but followed him anyway.

It wasn’t as if he had a choice, if he didn’t follow Thrax would just knock him unconscious and drag him along anyway. This way was easier; it was calmer for the both of them.

When they left, Thrax made sure the bodies throat was on _fire_. Ozzy watched the flames from his spot against Thrax’s side, and then held his breath as they flew out on an exhale and to the world below. Body hopping wasn’t always as simple as Thrax made it seem, but Ozzy never complained because he‘d never been awake for it. He followed through the world, punched germs that got in his face when Thrax wasn’t looking, and then dug around in the virus’ coat for his gun when it was obvious a germ could take a punch.

Thrax would just _look_ at the things and they’d all scramble away, and Ozzy never really saw that as fair. _He_ was a white blood cell here, germs were supposed to be _afraid_ of white blood cells. Instead, they picked them off like candy.

_‘Body boy.’ ‘City bitch.’ ‘Divider toy.’_

He heard all sorts of shit whenever Thrax would walk him around, and some of the shit made him want to be sick. He was being propositioned all the time, other times germs would ask for Thrax’s permission to proposition him, and that was even weirder.

“It’s different down here. You grew up in a body where white blood cells were the powerhouse. I grew up in the dirt, you were a germ or a virus, you killed or you were killed.” Thrax would always shrug and pull Ozzy close when germs or viruses would attempt to get too close. “We see something we want, we try to take it.” Thrax growled a lot on the ground, bared crooked teeth and cut anyone that looked at him sideways for longer than he liked.

Osmosis just stuck close and kept his eyes down. Thrax would pick somewhere soon and he’d be able to find a hotel with an actual bed and not be afraid to sleep at night. Thrax had started a habit of sleeping around Ozzy for his protection, or tucking Ozzy between his legs if they had to curl up tight.

Finding a body was a blessing and a horror because as soon as Thrax pulled them inside, Ozzy _relaxed_. But then he remembered that Thrax would kill the body and he pouted for a full three days. Never in front of the virus, but he still pouted. He wasn’t even afraid to admit it.

They stayed a week before Thrax hopped into a bodies’ relative and hunkered Ozzy down in a much nicer hotel than any he’d ever seen.

“The bitch has _Lupus_ in her, we’re close friends. She’ll get us whatever we want. Think of this as a nice vacation baby.” Thrax had laughed and ordered room service from the bed and tried to feed Ozzy food from his fingers. Ozzy had smacked him with a pillow.

He got to walk around a lot, gun in his holster and cuffs at his hip. Thrax spent a good week away at one point, ‘ _spending time with my lady friend_ ,’ he’d called it. Osmosis went sight seeing, went to fast food chains, saw bad B rated dreams. He did everything just the way he used to back when he was living in Frank, and none of it was even remotely fun.

He bought a bag full of glitter vodka bath bombs and dirty magazines. He ordered his favorite Chinese food and ate all of it while watching a show he’d never seen before. Hell, he went out of his way to get a full body massage, the ones that come with the happy ending.

He didn’t take the happy ending.

Instead, he went back to the hotel to find Thrax sewing his own stitches in his right shoulder and smiling like a mad man. Blood of several colors dripped across his torso and Ozzy just watched as he tied off his stitches.

“Take a bath with me.” Ozzy blurted. Thrax shrugged and got undressed without seeming to care. Ozzy stared at him and noted each scar, each bruise. He took in Thrax’s slender cock and the muscles in his thighs, the twitch in his fingers as he stood there waiting for Ozzy to lead the way. With a sigh, Ozzy undressed and walked into the bathroom, Thrax on his heels and attempting to wipe the blood off with his hand.

“Use a rag.” Ozzy grumbled before he tossed a bath bomb under the faucet. You could only find them in certain bodies, and Ozzy wasn’t going to say he didn’t think they weren’t the coolest shit. They left his skin feeling unreasonably healthy, and he was never above pampering himself when it came down to it.

When he turned on the water, the foam started fizzing and swirling. Thrax made an unpleasant noise. “I’m not getting in there with that feminine shit.” He grumbled, having procured a rag from the cabinet. Ozzy just shot him a look and stirred the water with his finger.

“Yes you are, and it’s not feminine. Don’t pull any of that shit; I’ve been with you when you get your nails done. You get in first.” Thrax just rolled his eyes and abandoned the rag in the sink before climbing in. He hissed at first, hand over his wound, and Ozzy watched him as the water rose. “The temperature okay?” he muttered after a while.

“If it wasn’t I would have fixed it,” Thrax pat his stomach and leaned back, “you going to join me, or was this just a trick to cover me in fruit?” his tone was jovial and Ozzy couldn’t help but chuckle. He turned off the water and cautiously climbed in, his back resting against Thrax’s while his hips settled against the virus’ pelvis.

The water was perfect and Ozzy could feel each of his muscles relaxing against Thrax as he closed his eyes. “I ain’t ever gon’ understand you, am I baby?” Thrax whispered against Ozzy’s neck.

Ozzy just sighed and pulled Thrax’s arms around him. “I’m tired.” He admitted. “I don’t have it in me to keep fighting you, but I thought I did in the beginning. I thought I’d kill you no matter what, I felt nothing but rage every time I looked at you.” He let out a long sigh and felt his breaths match up with Thrax’s. “Now I don’t feel much of anything _about_ anything. I think I’ve reached a level.” Thrax chuckled and squeezed Ozzy closer.

“A level of what?” he asked, sounding genuinely curious.

“I don’t know.” Ozzy said with a shrug. “How did you get your arm messed up?” he kept his eyes closed, but felt Thrax shift.

“Lupus got cranky at me, that’s all. That and I got hungry.” Thrax hummed and leaned back in the tub. “… What do you have against beer?” he asked as if it were an after thought.

“It tastes like piss.” Ozzy snapped. “Everywhere I go, each body, it all tastes horrible.” Thrax scoffed at him.

“That’s probably because where you come from, everyone was saturated in it.” Ozzy elbowed him in the ribs and got a grunt, but Thrax didn’t do anything to retaliate. They lay in the tub for a long time, neither of them moving save for the up and down of their breathing.

Thrax wasn’t entirely bone, but where the muscle gave way Ozzy would feel his sharp points and hard edges. He could feel the thick cut of hard shell instead of plush skin, and it reminded him of how different they really were. They weren’t the same, never would be, but Thrax was all Ozzy had anymore. It was a scary thought to have, realizing that the only reason he was still around was that a homicidal virus wanted to use him as a play toy.

Ozzy felt Thrax shift in the tub, felt him move the cell over so Ozzy’s ass was pressed against Thrax’s cock. The feeling was shocking for a moment, but to be honest with himself, he didn’t mind. They went back to their silence for a while.

“Hey…” Ozzy waited until Thrax hummed in response, “do you _eat_ white blood cells?”

Thrax shrugged. “Sometimes, I won’t turn down a red one either if it’s offered. It helps heal any wounds I happen to have.” He rolled his shoulder and Ozzy nodded, feeling the touch. He let the silence engulf him again and felt himself start to drift off. “Do you want to divide with me?” Ozzy stiffened and opened his eyes.

That had definitely woken him up. “What?” he turned, careful of his position.

“Do you want to divide with me? Do you want to have sex?” Thrax asked, saying the first part slower as if explaining it to a child. For a while, Ozzy just stared at him, unsure if Thrax was being serious. Thrax sighed as if he was about to dismiss the question, but then Ozzy shrugged.

“Sure.”

Why not, it wasn’t as if he was going to meet up with any other cell any time soon for a hookup. Not with how much he traveled at least. His life obviously wasn’t healthy, why not throw sex with a virus on top of the list and call it ice cream.

Thrax seemed surprised at first, but then he smiled and pulled Ozzy in for a hug. He turned him so Ozzy’s back was pressed against Thrax’s chest once again and sighed happily.

“Want to do it now, or later on?” Thrax asked. His tone was almost bored, but Ozzy could feel the stiffness that was forming against his ass and he knew Thrax was anything _but_. Ozzy shifted and felt Thrax’s growl grow in his chest, then it settled to a content kind of purring.

He really was an odd virus.

“Up to you, you just have to teach me how. I’ve never fucked a virus before.” Ozzy tried to keep his tone level, but he suddenly felt nervous.

“It’s aright, I’ll show you,” Thrax shifted again, this time forward, “but either way I want out of this tub. I’m not a fan of soaking in… whatever this is.” Ozzy huffed and sat up on his knees as Thrax climbed to his feet. “You can either drain the tub and shower with me and then go to the bedroom, or you can stay in the tub all night while I watch something mindless.”

Ozzy watched as Thrax attempted to brush the suds off his body. “What, no sex in the tub?” But he unplugged the drain anyway.

“Save that for another time.” Thrax muttered before he reached down and pulled Ozzy to his feet. “There’s too much stretching involved to try it in a tub the first time.” Thrax admitted, color tinting his cheekbones.

“You’re not that big.” Ozzy said, glancing down at Thrax’s cock. It was starting to curve upward.

“I’m a grower, not a shower, now turn around so I can rinse you off.” Thrax gave Ozzy’s thigh a pat and the cell did as he was told.

After the shower, Ozzy climbed out of the tub and wrapped up in the fluffiest towel he could find before leaving Thrax in favor of the bed. He sprawled out there, listening to the virus hum from the bathroom as he dried off. When Thrax came out of the bathroom, he was fiddling with his braids, attempting to tug them up and out of the way. Ozzy watched him as he made his way toward the bed, then chuckled when Thrax gave up and let each braid drop.

He sat down at the foot of the mattress and smiled, a lazy expression and posture. Ozzy smiled back, but he didn’t move from his spot.

“What should we eat tonight?” Ozzy asked, propping himself up on one arm as Thrax rubbed his thigh.

“I already ate, so I‘m not hungry.” Thrax muttered, looking over Ozzy’s body from his feet to the top of his head. His gaze was slow and assessing, and Osmosis felt the attention like warmth in his throat. It spread out to his chest and shoulders, and eventually it got so warm he had to look away. It wouldn’t do to overheat just from a look, but Ozzy knew Thrax wouldn’t let him get hurt.

Thrax was a killer, but he was protective. Maybe that wasn’t the right word though.

Possessive, that was the word. Thrax was possessive and almost horrifying when he was upset, but he had a plan and nothing would stop him. Not even Ozzy. The thought sent a chill through the blush he’d felt and he swallowed, no longer as comfortable as he had been earlier. He looked back at Thrax and caught his eye, but he didn’t have anything to convey. He just wanted to look at the virus, he wanted to see the thing that had killed everyone and everything he’d ever cared for.

Ozzy looked at him and he felt… _longing_ , was that longing? It certainly wasn’t love, but it was a need to keep Thrax close. Be it because he still wanted to attempt to stop the virus or because the virus was the only thing keeping him alive, he didn’t know.

He stayed silent when Thrax crawled across the bed and settled between Ozzy’s legs, pulling the towel away from his hip. Ozzy hummed and settled his legs around Thrax’s hips, watching him take his time as he sucked on two of his fingers. Ozzy swallowed and tried to keep himself from trembling, he wasn’t entirely sure if he was nervous or excited.

What he did know was that he _liked_ the way Thrax looked, and the way Thrax looked _at_ him. Sometimes it was hungry, sometimes it was endearing, other times it was primal. Each look made him feel something new, but it was never what he felt _before_ this thing started. Thrax’s lips looked bitten when he pulled his fingers out of his mouth, and Ozzy tried not to make a sound when they traveled down his belly. Teasing didn’t seem to be on Thrax’s mind because his hand quickly lowered Ozzy’s cock and he let his palm rub against the shaft.

Ozzy grunted this time and raised his hips into the pressure, eyes closing as he did so. That seemed to be the reaction Thrax was looking for, because after that Thrax replaced his palm for his free hand and moved his spit-slicked fingers against Ozzy’s hole. He didn’t push in, but the contact was still shocking enough that Ozzy’s eyes snapped open and he flinched.

Thrax hushed him and wrapped his other hand around Ozzy’s cock, giving it a squeeze before he let go to lean back and admire the way Ozzy was blushing now. His fingers were rubbing slow, lazy circles around the cell’s entrance and making him tilt his hips higher. He wanted the attention back on his cock, but for some reason words seemed to have escaped him.

Without thinking, Ozzy spread his legs wider and scooted closer to Thrax, both his hands clutching his thighs. Thrax smiled at that and leaned down to kiss him. It was the strangest sensation. Much to Ozzy’s surprise, Thrax’s lips were soft and smooth where he’d expected them to be hard and chapped. The virus kissed with a slow heat as if he were building the passion just to set it on fire and watch it go flying. When he pulled back, Ozzy gasped. He was surprised by the loss of lips and the addition of a finger pushing inside of him.

Thrax let out a groan of his own as he crooked his finger. Ozzy grunted, clenching down in shock. His breaths were shaking now, Thrax still so close to his mouth as he started sliding his finger back and forth. Watching Thrax’s face was like watching someone get exactly what they wanted, and it was probably true. Who knew how long Thrax had wanted this between them, but now he _had_ it. Ozzy lifted both his arms, wrapped them around Thrax’s shoulders, and pulled him down as he tried not to gasp.

“Stop being so smug.” Ozzy said in a breath before he pulled Thrax in to kiss him. His initiative made Thrax moan, and the sound was so low that Ozzy couldn’t help but feel it vibrate through his body. He even felt it when Thrax pushed a second finger inside of him.

His response was to sharpen the tips of his fingers and sink them into Thrax’s back. Ozzy felt the shell of Thrax’s skin pierce and vindicated for the pressure and discomfort between his legs. Thrax took the hint and pulled back with a hiss. His hand stilled but remained in place while Ozzy caught his breath.

Neither of them exchanged words, but Thrax stayed close to Ozzy and motioned toward his hand when he thought the cell was ready. Ozzy nodded and felt the fingers inside of him move and spread. The sensation was new and slightly uncomfortable. Thrax just smiled and dropped kisses to Ozzy’s cheeks and temple, their breaths the loudest noises in the room. Eventually Thrax pulled his fingers out and Ozzy grunted in shock, then huffed as Thrax pulled away from him.

“Where are you going?” he asked, pushing himself up to his elbows.

“Just stay there, I won’t be long.” Thrax waved a hand at him and hurried into the bathroom. Ozzy huffed and fell back to the bed, staring up at the ceiling as he waited. Maybe this would be a good time to call the whole thing off?

He knew he wouldn’t though, that would be the last thing he did. Ozzy couldn’t start this and suddenly stop, it just wouldn’t be right.

Before he could worry about anything else, Thrax has dropped back to the bed with a bottle in one of his hands. He pat Ozzy’s thighs and the cell readily parted them, letting Thrax settle back into place before he opened the bottle and poured something onto his fingers and palm. Thrax took the time to rub his hands together and then pushed his fingers back into Ozzy without much of a warning.

They slid in much easier this time, but it was still an odd stretch. The feeling was accompanied by a slick hand wrapping around his cock and Ozzy gasped in pleasure. Thrax kept up with each stroke with each thrust, never faltering one or the other. Eventually his fingers curved up again until they pushed against something that made Ozzy’s own pulse flicker. Thrax’s focus narrowed to that one spot as rubbed with both his fingers until Ozzy cried out and lifted his hips.

All the attention left his body then and he gasped and scrambled to grab at Thrax’s arms. He wanted to plead with him not to stop, but Thrax had kissed him so deeply that all Ozzy could do was kiss back. Thrax’s tongue was nothing like a cell’s, and he didn’t kiss to transfer, he kissed as if his only intention was pleasure. Ozzy moaned in frustration against his mouth and clawed weakly at Thrax’s arms until the virus let him go.

“I know baby,” Thrax sounded breathless and excited, “almost ready. Give me one of those pillows.” He motioned to the head of the bed and Ozzy stretched out to snatch one up. He tossed it at Thrax when the virus leaned back and out of his reach. Thrax laughed and lifted Ozzy’s hips with one hand, then stuffed the pillow beneath him with the other.

Ozzy sighed and shut his eyes, leaning back against the pillow under his shoulders. He could feel the girth of Thrax’s thick cock against his thigh, feel how Thrax was covering it in lube with a slow and deliberate ease. Thrax groaned as his hand stilled, and Ozzy couldn’t help but smile and open his eyes. Thrax had one hand cupped tight around his balls, the other keeping him supported on the mattress. Ozzy would remember that sight forever. Both of their bodies lit up by the streetlight outside as it flowed in from the window.

A million witty lines flew through his head but none of them came out of his mouth. Instead, he watched Thrax compose himself and steady his cock until he had it lined up with Ozzy’s entrance. Thrax really was a grower, and that growth made Ozzy swallow in anticipation. When the tip of Thrax’s cock pushed against the ring of muscles at Ozzy’s hole, he tried not to gasp, but when the head pushed in further all Ozzy could do was gasp. This was _much_ thicker than Thrax’s fingers, and he wondered if he’d be able to take it all.

Thrax was slow after that, adding more lube when needed and watching Ozzy’s face for any kind if discomfort. He didn’t stop until he had pushed himself halfway in. Ozzy was a mess, sweating and trembling as he held tightly to Thrax’s arms. He wasn’t ready for the slow thrusts to start, but when they did, he couldn’t really tell Thrax to stop. Not that he wanted him to, he just felt too hot under his skin to find words.

The pace his partner set was such a surprisingly sweet one that he nearly lost his mind.

Ozzy moaned and pulled Thrax closer by his shoulders, the position drawing Thrax’s cock inside of Ozzy further as he kissed the virus. They made equal noises of shock against each others mouths, but Thrax never stopped. The new position made Ozzy lift his legs and lock them around Thrax’s hips, his ankles digging into Thrax’s lower back.

Thrax knew what he was doing. He knew every angle to move in and how deep he needed to thrust. It was like slow torture. Agonizingly hot torture that was making Ozzy’s _toes_ curl. They pulled apart to breath but kept their faces close to one another, Ozzy leaning up to brush his lips against Thrax’s every once in a while. Eventually he noticed he’d started rocking his hips to counter Thrax’s thrusts, and then the angle he made had Thrax’s cock brush against that bundle of nerves.

Ozzy cried out and Thrax made a sound of pure bliss, his face buried in Ozzy’s throat as he grabbed his hips. Thrax lifted him and started thrusting harder, focusing on that bundle of nerves. Ozzy felt his legs tense up and his breath hitch. Thrax never let up, and soon Ozzy was coming, the sensation a surprise because he hadn’t realized it had built up that quickly. He hadn’t even been stimulating his cock.

The long groan he let out when Thrax kept thrusting felt justified, the sensation still fresh and everything too sensitive. Thrax hummed, his voice shaking as he spoke into Ozzy’s ear. “Next time… I want to come… down your throat. I want to see you swallow it.” Ozzy jerked in shock and cried out when claws sunk into his hips. Thrax stilled above him and Ozzy felt him coming.

It was warm, warmer than normal, and when Ozzy looked down he saw sloshing jets out orange and red lighting up inside his belly.

“That… better not be dangerous.” He muttered as Thrax tried to catch his breath. The virus laughed and took his time pulling out, much to Ozzy’s groaning. He helped the cell unlock his legs from around his waist and rolled onto his back so he was laying beside Ozzy with a smirk.

“It’s not dangerous,” Thrax muttered, “though you are. My back is bleeding.” Ozzy just scoffed as he let his body relax against the mattress. He felt disgusting but satisfied, and he could feel Thrax’s cum dripping out of him in globs.

“God I want a shower.” Ozzy said with a laugh. Thrax chuckled and reached over, looping his fingers with Ozzy’s as they stared at the ceiling. “… and I’m still hungry.” Thrax hummed in acknowledgement.

“I think I fucked up an appetite. Pizza sound good, or burgers?” Thrax made no move to get up though.

“Ugh, burgers please. I don’t want to look at pizza right now.” Ozzy muttered, but he didn’t let Thrax’s hand go.

They laid there, side-by-side, right up until Ozzy’s stomach rumbled. The sound made Thrax laugh until he sat up and Ozzy huffed. He figured now would be the best time to clean himself up, so he dragged himself to his feet with a wince and made a face if disgust when he felt Thrax’s come dripping down his thighs. He hurried into the shower, scrubbed himself of sweat and cum, and then just stood under the spray in silence.

When he really thought about it, he wouldn’t object to having sex with Thrax’s again. Sooner rather than later, but sooner being at least a week from now. Ozzy sighed and turned the showerhead off, then stepped out into the chill of the bathroom.

When he walked out Thrax was stripping the bed sheets and tossing them into a corner. Ozzy leaned against the doorway and watched, a smile on his face as Thrax grumbled and remade the bed. There was dried blood on his back and red claw marks, and it made Ozzy tremble happily to know he’d done that.

When Thrax was done with the bed he huffed, arm reaching up to rub at the awkward stitching that was already healing in his shoulder. Slowly, Ozzy walked toward him and sat on the edge of the bed. He patted the spot next to him and smiled. Thrax gladly flopped down next to him.

“Thanks for making the bed.” Ozzy said. Thrax shrugged and picked the remote to the television up off the floor. He flipped it to something mindless and they watched for a while, both engrossed in how utterly stupid it was.

“Hey… would you redo my braids for me later?” Thrax muttered during a commercial. Ozzy looked over at him and felt his heart skip a beat.

“Yeah, sure.” He rubbed his thumb against Thrax’s knuckles and smiled. “You wanna do another crossword puzzle after that?” Thrax chuckled.

“Yeah, sure.” He smiled and leaned over, head on Ozzy’s shoulder as they stared at the screen. Fuck their lives were weird.


	2. Chapter Two

Ozzy assumed the sex had turned into a means to an end, or maybe a way to revive any emotions he had left. Every time Thrax was inside of him or jerking off between his thighs, he’d hoped that he’d feel _something_ like rage. He hoped for that fire he’d once felt, or maybe contentment, but instead Ozzy just felt something he was scared to admit might have been comfort. Thrax caught on all too quickly, probably because Ozzy stopped reacting surprised when he was touched a certain way.

Eventually Thrax stopped asking for sex, instead favoring quiet strolls together or curling up close when they slept. They spent a good month hunkered down in a busted up warehouse on the outside of all things, and they just… sat there. No mayhem, they just slept on a pile of rags and… waited. Thrax barely moved away from the makeshift bed, save the occasions he scurried off to get food or prowl around the warehouse. He still dropped between Ozzy’s legs sometimes, guiding the blood cells hands into his hair so Ozzy had something to _do,_ but other than that they lived in an odd sort of quiet.

And then one day it wasn’t quiet at all.

One day Ozzy woke up and heard a low thrumming just on the edge of his perception, like a churning engine bubbling up before it sped down the road. He crawled out from under Thrax’s arm and walked to the window with it’s boarded up panes, but the sound never moved. No matter where he stood the sound remained just on the edge of him, and the longer it went on the more it started to _itch._

His shuffling woke up Thrax, and he watched Ozzy quietly as he paced and twitched. Thrax didn’t say a word; his silence almost seemed to make the sound louder. Reaching up, Ozzy rubbed both sides of his head, fingers digging into his temples as the noise seemed to throb outward, growing in volume for a short pulse before fading back into a hum.

“Baby… what’s wrong?” Thrax’s voice cut through the hum, the engine shattering and crashing. Without the sound it was too quiet again, and Ozzy slumped to the floor to rub at his eyes.

“Think I’m goin’ insane.” He admitted as he shifted against the wall. Thrax tilted his head, slowly rising off the bed and standing in the low light. He glowed without his clothes on. Nothing drastic of course, but over the last month Ozzy had begun to notice the faint tint to Thrax’s skin that lit up the dark.

Thrax walked forward like a flickering torch whenever he was naked, and now was no exception.

Ozzy didn’t flinch like he used to when Thrax knelt in front of him, didn’t swat Thrax’s hands away when he cupped his cheeks and leaned in for a kiss. His lips were soft, always soft compared to how Ozzy had imagined a virus to be.

“You’ve been away from other cells too long.” Thrax admitted it like a sorrow had left his throat, his thumb rubbing against Ozzy’s cheek. “Need to get you around some reds, maybe some whites if I can find ‘em, but you need to _mingle_ for a while.”

Ozzy didn’t hold back the self deprecating laughter. “That’s rich,” he admitted, “and just what you gonna do when I run off, or get too lost in a crowd? What happens if I go somewhere that’s too heavy for you to follow?” He wanted heat behind his words, but all he could muster was genuine curiosity.

What _would_ Thrax do if he let Ozzy loose among other blood cells?

“I’d wait for you to come back to me.” Thrax’s fingers trailed down Ozzy’s cheeks and throat, then rested on his chest.

“You honestly think I would?” Ozzy watched the way Thrax examined him, lifting his arms as Thrax’s fingers curled around his torso and gave a gentle squeeze.

“Oh, baby, I _know_ you would.” Thrax’s hum sounded content. He was so self assured in his belief that Ozzy would come back to him no matter where Thrax left him or dropped him off that it made Ozzy tremble.

The worst part was, was that Thrax was right. Maybe worse still was that Ozzy didn’t even feel bad about it, he simply excepted it. He would always go back to Thrax. Thrax was all he had anymore, and wasn’t that a pity.

Wasn’t that just a _riot._

\--

“It’s fifty carbs for an hour.” The red blood cell behind the counter didn’t even look up from her magazine as Ozzy stood there. “Depending on the cell they might charge you extra, if you get rough with any of them we’ll call security.” She twirled a lock of her hair and paused, finally looking up. “Questions, or are you going to stand there all night and waste my time?”

Ozzy looked at her as if he was seeing right through her, which he… sort of was. Her membrane was faint, but there was a suppleness to her that filled out her dress. Her color was off, but reds came in so many varieties that it was almost impossible to pin down what normal was.

“You in there?” She set down her magazine and snapped her fingers. Ozzy shrugged in response.

“Yeah, just admirin’ the view.” He tried to drag up as much of himself as he possibly could. Play it cool. 

She scoffed at him. “Uh huh.”

“Are you on the floor for a room?” He let his mask fall, not feeling up for faking normalcy. Hell, he didn’t even know what normal even _was_ anymore, especially not in a strangers body.

Red stiffened, her posture straightening and her chest protruding. She was showing off, posturing like Bird Flu, only with her tits.

“Honey you couldn’t afford me.” Her hand reached out for her magazine.

Ozzy pulled out the rolled up wad of carbs Thrax had slipped him and set it on the counter. Red froze, membrane rippling as she stared at the roll. That was probably more than she’d seen in a lifetime. Slowly, he reached out and plucked the roll off the counter.

“My _mistake_ honey,” Red was quick to slip off her stool and walk around the counter, “whatever room you want, however long you want, hell I’ll let you stay the whole night.” She gave a small shrug and seemed impossibly frailer than she had behind the desk.

“Sure.” Ozzy tucked the bills into his pocket and followed after Red, watching her check in certain rooms until she found an empty one. 

The money would go to waste if he didn’t spend it, and other than buying food he couldn’t think of anything he might possibly want.

Maybe _this_ was his way of testing his emotions again. Maybe with Red he would feel lust, maybe being able to touch another cells membrane would make him feel _alive_.

Walking into the room was almost surreal. Red never gave him her name, though to be fair he hadn’t asked for it, but she guided him to the bed with gentle hands and a warmth in her voice that hadn’t been there before. She helped him undress, let him take off what little she had on, and then she was in his lap. Ozzy didn’t know if it was obvious that he was out of practice or if she was hoping for a big tip, but Red let him take his time as he explored her.

Sometimes he had to stop in his touches, expecting hard edges or sharp points, boney ribbing or rough calluses. Instead all he felt was soft, pliant membrane. Red was a happy participant, or she seemed happy, and Ozzy could say with certainty that he’d missed the feeling of dividing with his own kind. 

Still…

No matter how good the climax had felt when he was buried in her, he was cold by the end of it. Red might have been everything he’d known he wanted, but his mind wouldn’t let him _need_ her. He lay in the bed, Red sleeping and curled up against his hip, and he felt more lonely than ever. Ozzy let his fingers trail through Red’s hair as she slept, let his body appreciate the ripple after a good divide.

Everything should have pointed to him having a great night, but instead he felt empty and alone in a bed far too big for two cells. Slowly he sat up, hushing Red back to sleep as she tried to pull him to the mattress.

“I’m not leavin’, just wanna stretch my legs.” He listened to her snort and mutter a lewd comment, but eventually she relented. This gave him room to explore, but instead he stood in front of the window and stared out onto the street. His mind didn’t know what to make of this place, or what to do if it went up in flames if Thrax decided he wanted it to tumble. 

There was no room for attachment.

Morning came and Red woke with a yawn, finding Ozzy in the same spot he’d found last night by the window. She pulled on a bathrobe from one of the dressers and seemed to hesitate.

“Do you want coffee before you go, I mean… if you’re going?” She seemed interested, but distant. In her profession it made sense, so Ozzy offered her a smile.

“I’m alright, I should get going soon.” He tried for reassurance, for comfort. Her face said he’d failed at it.

“You know, you’re interesting.” She walked over, Ozzy’s clothes in hand as she passed them to him. He started dressing without bothering to look away from the window. “You don’t have that softness I’m used to, I mean it’s pretty obvious you’re not from around here but it’s… still strange to feel a cell with a tough membrane.” She ran a finger over Ozzy’s arm and smiled. “Plus, you divide like a virus.” There was a smirk on her lips as Ozzy tensed up.

“And how would you know how a virus divides?” He asked, gripping the bottom hem of his shirt as he tugged it down. Red shrugged as she pulled her hand back, seeming to sense danger and stepping away in accordance.

“We have a very serious don’t ask don’t tell policy.” She shrugged and stuffed her hands into her pockets. “Right, just pay me and you can head out.”

Ozzy rolled his eyes and dug the carb roll out of his jacket. He grabbed six or seven bills, not really counting, and set them on the window sill. 

More than anything, Ozzy wanted to go find Thrax and get _out_ of this place.

As he stepped onto the street, the thrumming sound started again.

\--

Thrax was staying in a run down and mostly abandoned ’mansion’ on the dingier side of dingy, and Ozzy walked into the lobby and stared at what once must have been a beautiful foyer. The busted remains of what he assumed was a chandelier swung from the ceiling at a lazy pace, as if it was ready to fall, and he watched the lights twinkle through the glass. The thrumming in his ears was louder than ever, and Ozzy couldn’t tell if it was making him sweat or if the bodies temp was rising.

He didn’t call out, instead he gripped the railing and climbed up the steps, leaning heavily into the support. As he went he kept imagining himself falling through the rotted wood, or leaning too hard against the railing and falling off the side. 

Thoughts of his broken body laying in pool of his own plasma were a backwards sort of comfort.

Thrax was at the top of the stairs when he looked up, his face curious as he reached out and scooped Ozzy into his arms.

“You’re burning up.” Thrax’s voice was low, rumbling through the sounds of the engine instead of stopping them like it had the first time. His hands were soft, almost gentle as he cupped Ozzy’s face and turned him toward his chest. “Fuck, you really have been out here too long.”

Ozzy closed his eyes on the curses Thrax started to mutter, felt the slight bounce as he began walking. At least tucked this close to Thrax’s chest the thrumming wasn’t as loud, this close it wasn’t as _painful_. He wanted to sleep, the night had caught up with him and all his exertion was telling on him, but he didn’t know if that would be a good idea or not.

Slowly, he felt Thrax bend over and press him into the mattress he’d been sleeping on. It smelt like stale blood and mildew. Ozzy couldn’t help but gag as he tried to turn his face away from it. Thrax’s palm met his cheek gently, a soft pressure keeping him in place.

“Don’t open your eyes.” Thrax’s voice was stern but full of kindness. “You will hate _every_ second of this, but I need you to eat. And I mean it when I say keep your eyes closed.”

That sent a chill down Ozzy’s spine.

“What is it?” He asked, leaning into Thrax’s touch.

“It’ll go down better if you don’t know,” Thrax tapped his bottom lip with his thumb, “now open your mouth.”

For a split second, Ozzy thought about telling Thrax to go fuck himself. When that was over, he opened his mouth and let Thrax push something wet and thick against his tongue. Whatever it was, it tasted vile, like something sour and over ripened. Ozzy couldn’t help but gag, trying in vain to spit it out even as Thrax clamped a hand over his mouth.

“Chew it up or swallow it whole, it has to go down.” Thrax snapped. Ozzy groaned around the mouthful, trying in vain to force it out. Thrax snarled at him and Ozzy tried not to choke before he swallowed the lump.

Whatever it was slid down his throat like a slug, gooey and slow. His arms came up, clawing and trying to push Thrax away in vain. For all his efforts, all he got was sweet placations and arms keeping him steady. He retched afterwards for what felt like hours, eventually opening his eyes against his better judgment. Thrax had pulled him into his lap on the bedspread, and across the room was the slumped corpse of a white blood cell, their mouth hanging and gut cut open.

If he hadn’t felt nauseous before, he did now. 

For the love of _Frank_ let what was in his stomach be anything but that white blood cell.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Ozzy turned his face into Thrax’s collar bone. Breathing out slowly, he realized the engine noise was gone, in its place was Thrax’s low humming as his fingers pet over his hair.

The chunk of mystery he’d swallowed earlier felt like a rock that was free-floating in his gut now, and as uncomfortable as that made him, Thrax’s arms felt good. He may have been too hot to lay against, but Thrax was firm and sharp in all the places Ozzy had grown used to. His fingers trailed along the point of Thrax’s elbow, eyes feeling heavy as time passed. Eventually he fell asleep, cradled close to the sound of Thrax crooning at him.

\--

When Ozzy woke up it was to the feeling of heat engulfing his throat. He sat bolt upright on the mattress and started clawing at his membrane, gasping for breath and watching steam pour between his lips. His vision started to blur, and Thrax’s figure was an in and out constant before he passed back out on the mattress.

\--

Sometime later he woke again to Thrax whispering to him. He sounded sad, or maybe just put out.

“You advanced too fast, should’a seen that comin’ baby, I really should have. I’d planned on easin’ you into this better.” Thrax’s hand paused, then continued. “It’s done though, it’ll stop hurtin’ in the morning.”

Ozzy curled closer and let Thrax hold him, let the engine thrumming go from an irritating sound to white noise.

\--

“What happened to me?” Same body, different day. Ozzy was staring at himself in a mirror and noticing oddities. There were such minor differences to his appearance that had he not known what he looked like before, he’d never have placed them now.

His hair was longer, his membrane just a shade darker, and his eyes… his eyes would occasionally flicker if he tried to focus on them for too long. They reminded him of a cat.

He wasn’t a white blood cell anymore, but you wouldn’t know that by looking.

“Blood cells mutate if they’re outside of containment for too long.” Thrax was sitting on the edge of the tub, looking unsettled.

“You mean a body? Why you always gotta call it containment?” Ozzy reached up and ran his fingers through his hair and felt how much tougher it was. He’d have a harder time disguising himself now, but it was still a possibility.

“You mutated.” Thrax ignored the jibe and rubbed at his face. “Pretty sure you’re a card carrying Leukemia cell now.” Ozzy froze and stared at his reflection. The word sunk in, the feeling itching under him.

“I’m…” He swallowed, a nervous laugh bubbling up. “I’m a walking virus… shit, _shit_ we have to get out of here. I slept with a red, that’s how it spreads, they tell you about it in training, we have to leave.”

Ozzy turned to see Thrax look up at him, a dawning sense of understanding settling into him. Leukemia cells could spread by dividing, and sleeping with a cell in a brothel was the fastest way to cause the wrong kind of spread. The body was going to be staged ‘aggressive’ pretty soon, even if the inhabitants didn’t find out right away.

“You’ll survive longer like this.” Thrax muttered as he stood up. “As a Leukemia cell I mean, virus kind take better to-”

“Don’t.” Ozzy snapped it out as they walked out of the bathroom. “I could be the cause of this bodies death and you want to talk about the virus community accepting me?” He saw Thrax raise an eyebrow ridge out of the corner of his eye.

“If the body dies, no one will try taking you from me.” Thrax’s finger glowed as he said it. He let his nail prick against the wall of the building and slid it down the peeling wallpaper as they rushed to the stairs.

“If this body dies it makes me no better than you!” Ozzy snapped, already taking the stairs two steps at a time. “I can’t believe you!”

“You can’t believe me?” Thrax scoffed as sparks kicked off behind them, flames tickling deeper into the walls. “You’re the one who went after me, all you had to do was let me go, but oh no, you had to be the big hero and try and take me down.” His feet made loud stomps on the stairs, and then on the foyer floor as they rushed toward the door.

“I would have died like the rest of my friends! I was trying to get that stupid bead back from that stupid fucking necklace you love oh so much and maybe, just _maybe_ , save Frank’s life.” Ozzy threw the door open and started patting himself down to do a self inventory.

“Lot of good that did you.” Thrax turned as he watched the upper floors begin to catch, and he fumbled around in his coat pocket until he pulled out tied up pollen ball.

“Fuck you Thrax.” Ozzy gave his shoulder a hard shove, and turned toward the road. “We need a car.”

“Baby, relax, I got this.” Thrax tossed the pollen ball up once and then caught it, turning deeper into the city. “This way.”

\--

Half the slums were in a fiery shambles as they left, the police reporting it as a bad case of heartburn gone wrong as Ozzy slipped passed them and into the streets. He couldn’t see Thrax but he knew he was there, could almost feel him on the edge of his senses. Ozzy made a trip to the nose, going to check the weak and suffering damn, and Thrax met him after hours so they could make a swift exit.

The outside didn’t feel as thick anymore, the pressure on his membrane he almost hadn’t noticed before now felt… almost comforting. Every step he took with Thrax was quiet, any bacteria or Virus they passed remained hushed in their wake save the whispers. Those got to him, and Ozzy took to glaring at anyone who started up hushed conversations until Thrax found them a proper place to settle for the night.

A bacteria Bar and Board welcomed them, having taken one look at Thrax and Ozzy and sensing their danger. As soon as their door closed Ozzy locked himself in the bathroom and turned on the water to drown out any noise Thrax might have made. Sure, he was pissed, sure, he wanted answers, but right now he needed to think. Right now he needed to sit in the tub and hide.

Hours passed before he finally climbed out and made his way to bed, Thrax naked and leaving his arm open in invitation. Begrudgingly, Ozzy took it.

He stripped down and crawled on top of the sheets, then let Thrax tuck the covers in around him. Lips pressed gently against the top of his head, and he lay there basking in Thrax’s warmth. He’d spent long enough in the tub making a list of his thoughts though, he was ready for this.

“I’m going to ask you a series of questions and you’re going to answer truthfully.” His cop voice felt ancient, when had he last used it? “Was there any stopping this?” He asked, voice wavering as he gripped the sheets beneath him. “Me mutating I mean.”

Thrax just shook his head no. “You spend more than twenty pulses outside a body as a blood cell and you risk either crystallization or mutation.”

Ozzy huffed. “Did us dividing have anything to do with it, did it speed it up?”

“No, baby. What we did wouldn’t have mattered to your body, it was going to change no matter what.” Thrax hesitated then, but pulled Ozzy in closer and slid his hand down his back. “You’re going to want to divide more, Leukemia cells always do. It’s how they release that built up energy, how they stay stable.” His lips brushed against Ozzy’s cheek. “You probably already figured that out though, bein’ an ex fed.”

Ozzy grunted and turned to catch the corner of Thrax’s mouth in a kiss before he pulled away. “Is dividing with you going to hurt you, like it hurts other cells?” He lifted a hand and let his fingers trail along Thrax’s chest. That natural glow reacted to his touch now, or maybe he was just fucked up enough to see it where before he hadn’t.

“Nah, I’m harder to corrupt than that.” There was a low chuckle in his chest that Ozzy could feel under his fingers. He watched as Thrax’s hand joined his own, and they twined their fingers together. Wherever Thrax touched left its own feint glow on Ozzy’s skin, leaving it near white before it faded.

“Do I have to eat cells now? Like you do?” He thought back to whatever Thrax had made him eat when he was running his own fever. The memory made his stomach churn uncomfortably.

“No, that’s just a thing _I_ do, not you. You’re still a cell, you’re just a badly mutated one.” Thrax shifted suddenly, hand moving to curve around Ozzy’s hip before sliding down to pull against the back of his leg until he had it between his own. Ozzy could feel his cock pressing against his thigh, not fully hard but certainly stiff. “You’re a killer of a mutation.”

Ozzy groaned, head falling backwards.

“You disgust me.” But he didn’t pull away when Thrax took his movement as invitation and started kissing along his neck. It didn’t take long before tongue and teeth came into play and Ozzy closed his eyes, lip held tight between his own teeth as Thrax started forming a bruise.

He didn’t need this kind of distraction. He had more questions.

His mind was fogging up with desire though, and he put his list on hold. Something primal was stirring in his chest, a rush of lust he hadn’t felt before. This was almost a _need_ to push Thrax down and ride his cock until he passed out.

When Thrax pulled back the urge eased off, but Ozzy could feel it thrumming there, waiting. _Wanting._

Apparently sex was going to be a serious part of his life now, and Ozzy wondered if Thrax had planned that. He wondered if Thrax had divided with him to encourage mutation rather than crystallization. He wondered if Thrax knew that this outcome was a possibility.

None of it mattered though when Thrax’s hand slipped between his legs, when warm fingers found their way to his cock and squeezed. Ozzy shut his eyes to it, humming appreciatively.

Maybe Thrax had planned it, maybe it was his weird way of keeping Ozzy longer instead of watching him seize up and become a clot. Whatever the reason, or lack of reason, Ozzy couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Hey, kiss me more.” He nudged at Thrax’s shoulder and hummed approvingly as the virus obliged him.

Ozzy would take what he could get, and Thrax was good in bed. He was familiar, he was safe in a sense that he wasn’t going to shoot Ozzy on sight when he found out he was Leukemia instead of a white blood cell.

This wasn’t a conventional life.

It was just a weird one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this took me way longer than it should have, but I kept pushing it off in favor of other projects. Life has been rough, but I still very much approve of these two unhealthy idiots. Enjoy~


End file.
